A Foul Deed
by Beertree
Summary: Shortly after the Autobots awaken on Earth, Hound encounters some wildlife much to the chagrin of the other Autobots.


The road up to the volcano had been improved significantly since they'd last made the trip. It still wasn't paved but the track was wider and straighter, and the ruts they'd had to avoid on the way down from the mountain were gone, leaving a smooth, if dusty, drive back.

Sparkplug was grateful for the improvements. He didn't think his back could take another bumpy ride in the old pickup truck, especially one as loaded down as his. He and his son, Spike, had spent the entire week in Portland buying all the necessities humans needed to live among giant robots.

It had not been an easy task. The Ark had been pretty much unfit for humans. The Autobots had reassured the humans that they'd take care of some things, such as plumbing, but it had fallen upon Sparkplug and Spike to supply everything else. The pickup creaked and groaned its way up the mountain road under the weight of everything else.

They negotiated the final curve and Sparkplug slowed the truck almost to a halt as they got their first look at the giant spacecraft after a week. The sight still amazed them as they bent their heads back to catch a glimpse of the giant engines jutting from the mountainside, the only bit of the spacecraft still visible. Sparkplug shook his head. That must've been some crash, he thought. He turned his attention back to driving and pulled the truck into the parking area at the entrance of the Ark.

"What...?" Spike said looking at the crowd of Autobots milling and lounging about.

"Haven't a clue," Sparkplug responded.

The pair climbed out of the truck, slamming the doors behind them. They looked around and their gaze was met by dozens of blue optics staring back. A red and blue minibot stomped over and glared down at them.

"Well, it's about time you decided to show up. Prime wants to see you right away," he whined. "Do you have any idea what can happen to a 'bot when they're forced to stand outside? I can feel my joints freezing up with corrosion."

"Gears," Sparkplug said. "What's going on? Why are you all outside?"

"Ah, just go in. You'll see. Or whatever." The other Autobots nodded in agreement. "Stupid, organic world," Gears muttered.

The humans headed for the Ark's entrance, Spike looking over his shoulder and Sparkplug scratching his chin.

"I wonder what happened," Spike said turning to his father.

"I suspect we are going to find out..." he stopped in mid-sentence. "Do you smell something?"

Spike sniffed the air then shrugged. "Not sure." He sniffed again. "Maybe...Pretty faint, though."

Sparkplug nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty faint."

They continued on in silence, sniffing the air occasionally and trying to place the odor, until they reached the command center. The door slid open silently, and 3 pairs of blue optics turned towards them. Sparkplug and Spike froze in the doorway under the heavy stares of Optimus Prime, Prowl and Jazz. Then all three smiled in sheer relief as they realized who had arrived.

"Um, hi?" Spike offered, uncomfortable at the unexpected attention.

Jazz bounded over to them. "Man, are we glad ta see ya," he nearly sang escorting the small humans to the center of the room.

"We're glad to see you, too," Sparkplug answered carefully. He glanced at the other two Autobots and then back to Jazz. "Something wrong?"

Instead of answering the question, Prowl deadpanned, "Ratchet has requested your presence in the med bay."

Jazz laughed. "You can say that again. I think his words were something to the effect of 'When those scrappin' inhabitants of this scrappin' organic planet show their faces again, send their scrappin' afts down here immediately.' Or something like that."

Spike and Sparkplug exchanged worried looks. "Uh, ok. I guess we'd better get over there then."

Optimus Prime folded his arms across his massive chest. "I think that would be advisable. And please hurry," he added.

Jazz nearly pushed them out of the command center and the door closed before they could stop nodding. Sparkplug turned to his son. "Well, shall we go find out what's wrong?"

"I'm almost afraid to."

The older man chuckled softly. "I know what you mean."

Curiousity and fear mingled with the faint, if pervasive, odor as the humans made their way through the giant Ark. Something niggled at the edges of Sparkplug's brain, but he couldn't quite identify the smell. It was just a bit too faint. He did now realize why all the other Autobots had abandoned their home. The smell really did start to get on your nerves after a while.

They paused at the entrance to the med bay. The doors were shut tight and the smell was definitely stronger. Sparkplug's eyebrows climbed up his forehead as realization dawned.

Spike grimaced unhappily. "Oh, no," he groaned.

The med bay doors slid open and Sparkplug's hand flew to his mouth and nose.

"Oh, yes," he sighed through his hand.

They both stepped back and the door slid shut again. However, before they could turn to leave, the door slid open, and Ratchet glared down at them.

"Oh, no, you are not leaving," he growled. "You two volunteered to be our so-called experts on this slaggin' planet. You **will **come in here and you **will** tell us what that slaggin' smell is and how to get rid of it!"

The two humans exchanged resigned looks and followed the chief medical officer into the deserted med bay. Deserted except for one extremely unhappy Autobot sitting forlornly on a berth in the middle of the room.

Breathing shallowly through their mouths, Sparkplug and Spike approached the robot with Ratchet trailing close behind.

"Hound," Deeply sympathetic to his plight, Sparkplug said to the green tracker. "You have been skunked."

"What were you trying to do," Spike asked. "Pet it?"

Hound looked offended. "No. I think I hit it."

"You think?" Sparkplug asked trying not to laugh now.

"It was dark, and I was trying to avoid a deer that ran out in front of me. I didn't exactly see what I hit. If I'd seen it I would've tried not to hit it."

"Well, now you know. And now you all know what a skunk smells like. I gather you'll be able to recognize it in the future?"

Ratchet's optics brightened angrily. "Your sarcasm is not appreciated, you know."

Sparkplug raised his hands as if defending himself from a blow. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. It's just seeing the entire Autobot army in a panic over a bad smell is..." He looked at Spike, who was grinning. "Is hilarious."

"Well, then, if you're done amusing yourselves at our expense, do you have any suggestions for getting rid of the smell?"

Still laughing quietly, Sparkplug looked Hound up and down. "Hmmmm, what have you done?"

"Run him through the carwash about a dozen times."

"Both modes?"

Hound nodded.

"I would guess that the little critter is still in there, then."

Hound cringed, looking slightly ill. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. If a good washing hasn't helped then something is in there still stinking you up."

"I checked him thoroughly," Ratchet protested.

"It might be too small for you to see or even get to. It doesn't take much." The human turned to Ratchet. "Get him up on the rack and I'll take a look."

Spike grinned at his dad. "You're braver than I am. Do you need me or can I get out of here?"

Sparkplug looked thoughtfully at his son and then back at Hound. "You know, I think there's a package of rubber gloves in the truck. I have a feeling I'll be needing them."

"Gotcha," Spike answered and, with a wave in the general direction of Hound and Ratchet, he fled the room.

Spike headed straight for the truck and noted with little surprise that the contingent of Autobots had grown a bit. He ignored the narrowed, angry gaze Sunstreaker gave him as he rummaged through the truck for the package of gloves.

Unfortunately, he couldn't ignore the giant black hand that appeared in front of him as he turned to return to the med bay. He looked up into Sunstreaker's glowering face, surprised and a little scared by his sudden appearance.

"I want to know what's going on in there," he growled at the startled human. "It smells like a smelting pool in there and I want it taken care of." He pushed his face into Spike's face.

"We...uh...we are taking care of it. If you'll let me go, it might get done quicker."

"Don't get smart with me..." Sunstreaker snarled.

"I'm not..."

A hand fell on Sunstreaker's shoulder, and he tried to shrug it off.

"Now, Sunny," Sideswipe said, keeping a firm grip on his brother's shoulder, "let the human go. He's our friend and trying to help."

"Hmmmph." Sunstreaker glared over his shoulder at the red Autobot and then moved his hand to let Spike pass. As Spike hurried past the yellow Autobot, Sunstreaker gave him a light shove with his finger. Spike staggered, nearly falling before catching himself. Sunstreaker snickered, turned away, and moved off with Sideswipe.

Spike scowled over his shoulder at Lamborghini's back, thinking black thoughts.

After Spike left, Hound transformed and drove onto the rack, and Ratchet raised the tracker just high enough for Sparkplug to walk underneath him. Sparkplug took a deep breath and ducked under Hound.

"Yuck," he said after a couple of minutes, stepping away from the Autobot. "Found it. It's stuck up there pretty good. Where's Spike?"

"Here," the boy answered, tossing the package of gloves through the door without actually entering the med bay.

Sparkplug caught it and removed the yellow, rubber gloves. "Ah, better," he said and returned to Hound's underside. He reached carefully inside Hound, feeling about for the remains of the skunk. Hound grunted softly.

"Sorry," Sparkplug said.

"S'okay," Hound responded. "It doesn't hurt, just feels funny."

"Eureka!" Sparkplug announced, holding up what was left of the skunk.

"Ugh," Ratchet said. "I think that's unnecessary, Sparkplug." He held out a container for the human to dispose of the carcass. Sparkplug tossed it in and Ratchet slammed the lid down quickly.

Sparkplug turned back to Hound and examined the Autobot's axel and wheelwell thoughtfully. "Probably should hose him out good but that should take care of things."

"Great and thanks, Sparkplug," Ratchet answered gratefully. "I think I'll have this burned," he continued, holding up the container.

"Hey, can I have it?" Spike asked suddenly, stepping through the bay doors now that the source of the foul scent had been contained.

One pair of eyes and two pairs of optics turned to stare at him.

"Why don't we just let Ratchet take care of it, Spike," Sparkplug said.

"Please," Spike begged with puppy dog eyes.

Sparkplug sighed in defeat. "Okay, if Ratchet doesn't mind."

"You're going to get rid of it, right?"

Spike nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. Don't worry about it."

Ratchet handed him the small container, giving him a suspicious look as he did. "I do not want to see it back here, understand?"

"Got it," Spike said as he trotted out of the med bay.

Sunstreaker was looking forward to a few hours of shutdown before he had to go on duty. The fiasco with the skunk had cut into his personal time when he had been forced to evacuate the Ark and spend the afternoon baking in the sun . The whole incident had left him in a more than average nasty mood.

He stretched, joints popping loudly, and glanced around the room he shared with Sideswipe. His brother was out, which was probably for the better since he didn't feel like talking to anybody. His optics landed on a small container sitting on his recharge berth.

"Wha...?" he muttered and picked it up examining it carefully. When it didn't explode in his hand, he carefully unscrewed the top. The smell hit him like a null-ray to the head.

"Gah!" he shouted and frantically tried to put the lid back on but not before the entire room was permiated with skunk. "When I find out..." he spluttered and dashed from his room, door sliding shut behind him.

Sideswipe and Spike watched him sprint down the corridor.

"Sorry about your quarters," Spike said to Sideswipe.

"Aw, it was worth it," Sideswipe said shrugging. "I'll bunk with Trailbreaker or someone until it airs out."

Spike grinned up at Sideswipe, gave him a wave and headed back to his own rooms.


End file.
